


Conspiracy of Silence: First Impressions

by Nomad (nomadicwriter)



Series: Conspiracy of Silence [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Backstory, Drama, Gen, MWPP Era, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-11-11
Updated: 2001-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomadicwriter/pseuds/Nomad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape's first year at Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: ** J.K. Rowling created and owns Hogwarts, Severus Snape, and almost everything else in this story - for which I will be forever jealous.  
**Author's Note**: Once more, with a few less typos... Reuploaded June '04 after another quick sweep for errors I missed last time around.

**First Impressions**

Alone of all the children milling about on platform nine and three-quarters, Severus Snape was silent and still. The others laughed and chattered as they met old friends or sniffled and clung to their parents. Sev simply watched.

Even at eleven, he was a remarkably self-possessed boy. 'Cold' was the word some people would have used, and perhaps it was accurate. Whatever passions might or might not rage beneath the surface, all that he ever let show was carefully calculated and considered.

Orphaned at the age of six after an unfortunate magical accident, Sev had been raised by his mother's brother. His uncle was a kind enough man in his way, but he had neither the time nor the experience to raise a young boy in any way approaching normal. Severus was left to bring himself up - and bring himself up he did.

His uncle had owned a book collection to rival even that of the great library at Hogwarts, and Severus had studiously read his way through it at an age where other boys were still getting used to sounding out their letters. He had paid careful attention to his uncle's many tomes on the Dark Arts; not through any intent to use what he learned, or even through simple curiosity, but because the Dark Arts represented knowledge few had - and Severus Snape prized nothing higher than knowledge.

He remembered little of life with his parents, but his father's words of wisdom to him had stuck in his head. It was wisdom his uncle and others might not have approved of... but to Severus, it made perfect sense.

_Never let them see the real you, Sev. Never let them know what you're thinking. There are a lot of people in this world, and you'll find that you're smarter than most of them... but they don't need to know that. Keep it to yourself, Sev. Always play the double game._

And that was how Sev lived. Observing. Calculating. Watching the world around him, and fitting in to it however he chose to do so.

With his brains, he could have been the highest scoring student at his junior school. With his talent for understanding people, he could have made himself the most popular. He did neither. He was content to sit on the sidelines, unnoticed, and keep to himself.

And now he would be starting at Hogwarts. Not just any school, but a wizarding school. He would for the first time in his life get to use real magic... or so his uncle thought.

Though Severus had never owned a wand until a week ago, there were magics you could do without one. In preparing potions, he was already more accomplished than most of his fellow students would be when they left seven years down the line. And though he had never had opportunity or reason to use them, his studies of the Dark Arts had brought him into contact with a huge selection of curses and incantations. And Severus Snape had an excellent memory.

He could wow all the assembled students with some flashy display if he wanted - but that was far from his style. No, he much preferred to wait and observe.

Where other people might see only a confusion of people and noises, Snape saw patterns and intersections. In a matter of minutes, he could see things about the students around him that others might take weeks to find out. He amused himself by studying his fellow new students, and sorting them into Hogwarts houses.

A nervous girl with dark red hair and green eyes bit her lip as she stood with her family. An older blonde girl, obviously her sister, looked down her nose in disgust at the chaotic display around them. The family were Muggles, he could see at a glance, and they didn't much approve of her new career path. She was obviously strong-willed. She'd be a Gryffindor.

Not far away, a scruffy boy with glass fussed with the back of his dark hair, trying to convince it to lay flat. He was laughing loudly with another boy, with a crop of black hair shoulder-length like Snape's own, but wildly curly. Gryffindors those, too.

Harder to place were the wallflowers. A skinny mousy-haired boy in faded, patched clothing hung back from the crowd. He seemed awkward amongst so many people, but there was a glint of intelligence in his eyes, and he seemed to be observing much as Snape was. A Ravenclaw, perhaps?

A short, pudgy boy on the sidelines seemed destined for Hufflepuff for sure. He was clinging to his parents and watching events with a wide-eyed suspicion. His father, an imposing man in stark black robes, looked thoroughly unimpressed with his timidity.

Only one other student was as short as he was, but the difference in their demeanour was striking. Slim, with golden-white hair and a self-possessed air, he carried a very expensive-looking case and was pontificating loudly about how his father had been head boy when he was at Hogwarts.

Slytherin, for sure. The home of the ambitious.

The home of Snape, too. Ambition was a knotty problem, and Sev would have to think for a long while to decide where his lay... but Slytherin was also the home of the devious and cunning. Severus Snape was nothing if not cunning.

The train was about to move out, and everybody filed aboard. Sev had hoped for an empty compartment to catch up his reading - people-watching was much less enjoyable in a small, enclosed environment - but no such luck. The red-haired girl and the shy boy in the shabby robes both followed him in.

There was an awkward silence. Awkward for the others, at least; Sev just ignored them both and started reading. His book was not one of the Hogwarts set texts - no, he was way beyond that. This was a complicated treatise on the latest advances in Transformation Potions.

Finally, the red-haired girl spoke up. "Hi," she said, with a brilliant smile. "Um, good to meet you all. I'm Lily."

The mousy-haired boy smiled back. "I'm Remus Lupin." He had a very gentle voice, but he spoke without a trace of the hesitation you would expect from someone who was outwardly so shy. Snape filed that away for later use, the way he did all such observations.

They were both waiting for him to join the conversation, so he said shortly "Severus Snape," and flipped over another page in his book.

"Wow, that looks complicated," Lily observed. "What is it?"

He was tempted to answer 'a book' but decided that - whilst it was undeniably the right sort of answer to give to a stupid question - such a comment was entirely too childish. "_A Treatise on Transmogrification_," he told her, flipping up the cover for her to see.

"Wow," she said again. Charitably, he ascribed that to nerves and not a limited vocabulary.

"It would appear that it _is_ complicated," Remus observed dryly.

Much to Sev's relief, his two carriage-mates were fairly quiet for most of the journey, chatting quietly to each other and not trying to draw him into the conversation too much. He continued to read, paying little attention but missing nothing.

Lily, he learned, was indeed from a Muggle family. Her parents had known nothing of the existence of magic, and had been horrified at the very idea. It had taken her weeks of arguing, bribery and outright blackmail to get permission to go to Hogwarts. She'd only won her case after she convinced her older sister Petunia to back her up. Petunia, it seemed, was torn between disgust at the shame of having a sister who was a witch and glee at having the room they shared to herself for most of the year.

Remus was less than forthcoming about his family and history. He was wizardborn, that much was easy to tell from how he spoke and dressed, but he claimed his life so far had been "very dull". From the quietly self-assured way he carried himself, however, Snape didn't think it could be anything as simple as shame at coming from a poor family. Sev found the contrast in him before and after boarding the train interesting. It appeared it was mostly the size of the crowd that had unnerved him; where had he been all his life that he wasn't used to so many people?

The quiet was disturbed, however, by the arrival of the witch with the snack trolley. Hot on her heels came the two loud boys he'd seen on the platform earlier.

"Ow! Sirius, mind where you're going!"

It was the scruffy-haired boy with the glasses who had spoken. His long-haired companion, an inch or two shorter, was like a human whirlwind, tearing about the place at speed.

The boy with the glasses caught sight of how Lily was staring at the display of snacks with fascination, and flashed her a mischievous grin. "Hi! I'm James Potter. You ever tried Pepper Imps?"

"I wouldn't, if I were you," Remus advised drolly.

"I want to try _everything_," Lily insisted excitedly.

James grinned at her. "Great idea." He turned to the witch. "Ma'am, can we have a portion of everything?"

Lily clapped a hand to her mouth. "Oh, you can't! Besides, I don't even have any wizarding money on me."

"That's okay. Sirius'll pay for it. Won't you, Sirry?"

"Huh? Oh, whatever." Sirius seemed more concerned with something in his coat pocket. He reached inside, and produced a tiny owl that was looking a bit rumpled.

"Oh, you have an owl!" Lily seemed delighted. "Oh, I wanted to get one, but my parents wouldn't let me!"

"You keep your owl in your pocket?" remarked Remus, eyebrows raised.

"This is Zipper," Sirius explained, carefully smoothing out his ruffled feathers. "He doesn't like cages. Do you, Zip?"

The tiny owl fluttered his wings excitedly.

James came over to the with a huge armful of sweets. "Enough for everyone!" he announced. "Pay the lady, Sirius."

"That'll be twelve Sickles, please," said the witch.

"Twelve Sickles?" demanded Sirius, digging in a different pocket. "You spent _twelve_ Sickles of mine on sweets?"

Lily looked distressed, but James clapped her on the shoulder reassuringly. "Ignore him," he advised. "He's rolling in it."

Sirius pulled a face, and pretended to menace him with his wand. Sev rolled his eyes in disbelief, a gesture that the others unfortunately noticed.

"I'm sorry, are we amusing you?" asked Sirius.

"Not intentionally, I'm sure," said Snape dryly.

Sirius scowled, but James grinned amiably. "Hi, I'm James Potter. This is-"

"I have ears," Sev reminded him.

James blinked. "Do you have a name as well?"

"I'm Severus Snape."

"Thank you." After a moment, when it was clear Snape had no interest in talking to any of them, they went back to chattering amongst themselves.

* * *

The train pulled up at the Hogwarts station and everybody tumbled out. A huge man with wild black hair, twice the size of the people around him, was bellowing for the first years.

A number of the new kids seemed intimidated by the sheer size of him; they'd never seen anything like it. Neither had Snape, but he recognised him for what he was immediately. _Giant's blood in that one, or I'm a Muggle._

"Right, 'ere we go!" bellowed the enormous man. "No more'n four to a boat! Any more firs' years?"

They all scrambled for the boats. James, Remus, Sirius and Lily filled one. Snape ended up in the next boat, with the short blond boy and the nervous fat one he'd noticed on the platform, plus an extremely bulky boy who looked like he was taking up more than his fair share of the weight allowance.

"Right - forward!" The fleet of little boats started across the lake. The water had gone as still as glass.

Most of the students were gaping in awe at the spectacle of Hogwarts laid out before them, but Snape was more interested in watching _them_. He met the eyes of the little blond boy, who gave him a kind of companionable sneer; an expression that said 'look at all these losers around us'.

_Be careful before you put yourself into my league, kid,_ Sev thought, but he gave the boy a subtle nod of acknowledgement.

They got out at the other side, the pudgy Hufflepuff boy stumbling and almost falling in the water. The blond boy snickered, and James shot him an angry scowl. He came over and offered the other guy a hand up.

"Hi, I'm James Potter," he said yet again. Snape found himself wishing he could think up a more original line to introduce himself.

"P-P-Peter Pettigrew," stuttered the boy awkwardly. The blond kid snorted again, and the bulky boy who'd shared their boat chuckled with him. James glared at them angrily, including Sev by default - although he hadn't laughed or even reacted. Snape stared back impassively. Why on earth would he care what Mr. "Hi I'm James Potter" thought of him?

They filed through into the Great Hall. The four house tables were crowded with older students. Snape kept his face impassive under their collective gaze. The youngest kids there, the new second years, were craning their necks curiously, but the older students looked like they'd seen it all before.

At the top table the teachers awaited them. In the centre, of course, was Albus Dumbledore; a tall, thin man with a flood of auburn hair shot through with silver-grey. He peered kindly at the new students over half-moon spectacles.

As they waited, a tall, very thin man with a scrubby blond beard came forward. "First years, Hagrid?" The huge man nodded.

"Welcome," said the thin wizard, with a slightly distracted smile. "I'm Professor Fractalis. I teach Arithmancy, and I'm the deputy headmaster here at Hogwarts."

He wore chalk-dusted robes that were patched at the elbows, and in his hands he carried a hat that was even more battered than his own. He solemnly placed it on a stool in front of the assembled first years, and stood back.

There were some very puzzled faces in the crowd around him, but Sev had read _Hogwarts: A History_ back when he was seven. This must be the famous Sorting Hat.

They all watched the hat for a long moment. Suddenly, it twitched, and a rip near the brim opened like a mouth. The hat began to sing.

> _ A thousand years ago or more,  
> When Hogwarts school was new,  
> The founders formed their houses each,  
> But wondered what to do.  
> For they each prized in their own mind  
> A different virtue clear;  
> But how to pick those virtues out  
> When they could not be near?  
> 'Twas Gryffindor who thought it out  
> And saw the problem's end  
> And placed a spell on his own hat  
> On which they could depend.  
> For I'm the Hogwart's sorting hat  
> I know what's on your mind;  
> And so, no matter who you are,  
> A place for you I'll find.  
> If you are brave and true of heart,  
> In Gryffindor you'll go;  
> If you are wise above all else,  
> Then Ravenclaw, I'll know;  
> The cunning and the wittiest,  
> In Slytherin will be;  
> And those who work and toil hard,  
> To Hufflepuff I'll see.  
> I'm never wrong, I never fail,  
> I'll know by what I've read;  
> I'll sort you into your true home  
> So put me on your head!_

The entire hall burst into spontaneous applause. Sev didn't join, just waited patiently. The blond boy didn't clap either, curling his lip into a sneer at how easily impressed his fellow students seemed.

Professor Fractalis cleared his throat somewhat nervously. "When I call your name, please, ahem, please come forward and sit down, and put on the hat to be sorted." He coughed again. Sev decided he wasn't very used to public speaking. "Ackerley, Solomon!"

Ackerley, Solomon, stumbled forwards and tugged on the hat. There was a moments' silence, and then the hat bellowed "RAVENCLAW!"

The Ravenclaw table cheered, and he skittered across to join them with a goofy grin.

"Avery, Nicholas!" was next up. He was sent to Slytherin.

The first half of the ceremony went off with no surprises. Lupin was put in Gryffindor, not Ravenclaw, but Snape had already reassessed him after the train ride. The blond boy he'd shared the boat with was Malfoy, Lucius, and the bulky one who'd joined his laughter was Crabbe, Colin. They were both in Slytherin.

It was when they came to little stuttery Peter Pettigrew that he nearly swallowed his tongue. The hat sat on his head for a very long time... nearly two minutes. Finally, when people were beginning to shift uncomfortably, the hat suddenly bellowed "GRYFFINDOR!"

_Gryffindor?_ House of the brave and true of heart? He tried to juxtapose that with the fearful little boy who'd been quaking like a leaf, and just couldn't begin to do it.

What was the Sorting Hat playing at? It claimed to have never been wrong - well, if it wasn't wrong, it was certainly up to something. Could the hat have an ulterior motive for assigning Pettigrew to Gryffindor? Sev couldn't imagine what that might be.

He was so bemused by the hat's odd choice that he completely blanked out Potter, Pucey and Quirke. Next thing he knew, it was his own name being called out.

"Snape, Severus!" Untroubled by the focus of attention suddenly on him, he calmly went forward to take the hat and place it on his head.

The hat took no time at all to reach its decision. A dry, whispery voice in his head said "Hmm, a sly one... very, very sly... SLYTHERIN!" He tugged the hat off, and went to join his table.

Lucius had reserved a seat for him. He gave a kind of triumphant sneer. "Thought you'd be with us," he muttered. "You didn't look like one of the riff-raff."

The remaining students were quickly assigned houses; he was the last to be put in Slytherin. When they had all settled down, Professor Dumbledore got to his feet at the staff table. "Greetings, all. Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. Before we eat, I'd like a brief word - dinner!" He sat back down.

"Stupid old fool," said Malfoy scathingly. Sev started to eat, and said nothing.

The students scoffed their fill from the magic plates. Severus ate little; he generally viewed food as fuel to be got out of the way with, secondary to the much more important things he could be doing with his time. Crabbe ate like a pig; Malfoy was extremely picky, critiquing everything he was served and making comments about how his parents wouldn't be caught _dead_ using such commonplace table settings.

When they were finished, Professor Dumbeldore stood up again. "Ahem. Right, a few more words before we all go off to bed. Welcome back, all those of you who've been here before. You may notice a few changes to the staff." A brief murmur ran through the older crowd.

"Professor Binns, as you may recall, sadly passed away last term. However, as those of you were in his history class will be aware, his ghost remains with us, and he will continue to teach his classes. Professor Kirrelgun, on the other hand, has left us for a lucrative position in the Ministry of Magic. We are fortunate to have procured a more than capable replacement - may I introduce Professor McGonogall, the new Transfiguration mistress." There was polite applause. A stern-faced young woman with a flood of dark hair stood up and nodded briefly.

"And now, to your dorms. The Prefects will show you the way."

The Slytherin rooms were not far away from the Great Hall. The lead Prefect spoke the password - "Dragonhide" - and an entire section of the wall slid back.

There was a mass scramble as the first years fought over the different rooms. Snape ended up sharing his with Malfoy, Crabbe, and two other boys called Nick Avery and Stuart Flint. Malfoy cast a cold eye over their roommates, and appeared to find them acceptable. Snape suspected this had more to do with the fact that they both came from long-established wizarding families than anything to do with their personalities.

The others fell asleep almost instantly after their tiring day, but Sev stayed up long into the night, reading _A Treatise on Transmogrification_.


	2. Chapter 2

It didn't take long at all for Sev to settle into the daily routine of life at Hogwarts. He, naturally enough, excelled in all his lessons, finding a lot of the early exercises painfully simple. However, he was careful to avoid being first to complete things all the time. Generally he would finish second or third - far enough down the list not to get noticed, but not so far down people started thinking he was stupid.

James Potter usually came in first, although he wouldn't have done so if Snape had been working to the best of his ability. His best friend Sirius was also very bright, but the teachers had extreme difficulty getting him to settle down long enough to do anything. He would much rather be poking and prodding things with his wand or setting off Dungbombs.

The one lesson where Sev couldn't disguise his expertise was Potions. He was light-years ahead of the other students, already nearly on a level with their teacher, Professor Fennel.

Saxius Fennel was a handsome, dark-haired man with olive skin. He was a cold, harsh man, slow to offer praise, but that didn't bother Snape.

Other, more sensitive and less brilliant students had a lot of trouble with him. Remus struggled mightily with his Potions, and Lily was just plain hopeless - despite the fact that she had an excellent memory for detail and was always quick to understand. She knew exactly what she was _supposed_ to be doing... she just couldn't make it work.

Lily was one of Lucius Malfoy's favourite targets. Malfoy had a very sharp tongue and an instinct for how to wound, and he wasn't afraid to use them. He and his gang picked on Peter Pettigrew for his nervousness and poor grades in class, but they reserved the worst of their venom for the 'mudbloods'.

All of the Slytherins came from long-established wizarding families. So did most of the others, but since Dumbledore had been made headmaster, there had been more and more students flooding in who had no magic in their family tree whatsoever. Snape had seen first-hand that this had absolutely no bearing on how well they did at school, but Lucius wasn't interested in such trifling little details.

Potions was the class where the worst of the infighting went on, because Fennel seemed completely deaf to such things when it suited him. Slytherin shared Potions with Gryffindor, which gave Malfoy Peter, Lily, and two other mudbloods, Jade Creevy and Jerry James, to pick on.

Not all the Gryffindors were easy targets, however. James Potter was fiercely protective of all his housemates, and Sirius Black would take any excuse for a fight. And Lily herself had little patience for bullying - she seemed like a sweet little thing, but she had a biting wit and a no-nonsense attitude.

Snape himself couldn't care less about the fighting one way or the other. In his opinion, Lily was one of the least objectionable people in the class. She seemed to understand his personality fairly instinctively, knowing that his impassive coolness was completely different from Malfoy's sneering superiority.

Black and Potter had no such powers of distinction. So far as they were concerned, the fact that he was a Slytherin and that he didn't actively speak out against Malfoy made him part of the gang.

If either of them had as much brains as their test scores suggested, they would have realised that to do so, had he wanted to, would have been to make the next seven years of his life hell. Malfoy, however unpleasant to what he considered his 'inferiors', was a born leader. All the Slytherins in their year had coalesced around him, following his lead and becoming his gang. Snape wasn't actively a part of that... but he wasn't stupid enough to try and set himself apart.

Somewhere inside, though, Snape found himself somewhat... disturbed by Lucius Malfoy. Oh, not by his antics and his attitude - that was standard schoolboy bullying in anyone's book. But there was something behind the sneer at times that worried him a little.

"The time is coming," Malfoy had disclosed to him in private once. "The time is coming when we won't have to put up with this rubbish anymore. Mudbloods in our schools, pathetic little weasels like Pettigrew - the true power of wizardry is being diluted. Idiots like Dumbledore are ransoming the future for their 'equality'." He sneered and made obnoxious little quote marks that made it quite clear he considered the likes of Peter and Lily no equal of his.

Then Malfoy had leaned in closer, a knowing light in his eyes. "But that's gonna change," he confided in Snape. "Oh, not this year, and not the next, but soon. We're gonna cleanse this place. We're gonna purify the blood of wizardry, and put our people back where they belong."

Severus was an excellent judge of people. He knew when words were truly spoken, and when they were just bluster. And there was something behind Malfoy's words... He knew something. And this 'cleansing' he was talking of might well be more than just a twisted dream.

Sev might not be the most emotional of boys, but he recognised a bad deal when he heard one. Never mind 'mudbloods' and the magically weak... once something like Malfoy's dream was started, it just kept rolling on and on. The most important thing in Severus Snape's life was the gathering of knowledge - and when elitism came in, freedom of information was the first to go out.

So when Lucius Malfoy seemed to think of him as a kindred spirit, he did nothing to destroy that impression. When the gang of Slytherins made their cruel jokes and cackled at the others, he smiled thinly and said nothing. When James Potter and his friends scowled at Snape and the others, he scowled right back.

And when he was around Malfoy, he watched, and he waited. It was what he did best.

* * *

If he couldn't disguise his expertise in Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts was nearly as bad. Their teacher was Professor Malachite, a very well-spoken wizard with icy white hair and a goatee beard. He was head of house Slytherin, and as well-liked as most of his students were reviled. He was always very warm and understanding with the students, aiding them whenever they needed help and seldom handing out any kind of punishment.

He paid special attention to Sev, and it was clear that his usual defence of pretending to be less sharp than he was would be hard to pull off. Malachite couldn't see through him - nobody Snape had ever met could do that - but it was clear he knew Sev wasn't pulling his full weight.

He pulled the young Slytherin aside after one lesson when Snape had refused to raise his hand to questions they both knew he could answer in a heartbeat.

"Now, young Severus," said Professor Malachite warmly. "I notice a certain reluctance to join in the class discussion, hmm? Nervous, perhaps? Shy about public speaking?"

There was no point in pretending to that. "No sir."

"Bored, then? Are we not stretching you enough?"

For perhaps the first time, Sev was genuinely torn. On the one hand, he didn't want to tip his hand and reveal the full extent of his ability... and on the other, Malachite's words hinted at the possibilities of more knowledge.

The professor appeared to take his silence as assent. "I'll tell you what, Snape. I'll give you permission to get books from my private library. And if you want to do a little extra reading on your own time, well... it can be our little secret." He tapped the side of his nose and smiled.

Snape took the permission slip, and said nothing. But soon after, he started to borrow books from the Dark Arts office.

And quite a collection Professor Malachite had. It was more extensive by far than the selection available in the main library, even in the restricted section. He wondered to himself what Professor Dumbledore might think if he knew that one of his professors was allowing an eleven-year-old free, unmonitored access to such material.

But then, Dumbledore was a law unto himself. Malfoy, and by extension his followers, regarded him as near-senile, taking his weird pronouncements and love for silly things as proof he was more than half mad. Snape, as always, saw deeper.

And he had the uncomfortable feeling that Dumbledore did too. Sometimes there was a glint in those warm blue eyes that he had only ever seen before in a mirror. Perhaps the craziness was all for show - or perhaps it was truly part of his personality. But if it was, it was a long way from being all of it.

Yes, Dumbledore might hide behind an entirely different set of shields than Snape, but underneath they were two of a kind. Sev made a mental note to never try to stare the headmaster down. He had the feeling that it might just be the first time in his life he didn't succeed.

Time passed quickly, as it always did when he was learning. And he _was_ learning, although not in lessons. The Hogwarts library held a great many books his uncle had never had the chance to get a copy of, and of course there was Professor Malachite's private bookshelf.

Malachite never asked Snape what he was studying. Sev found that strange, and a little worrisome; it went against every piece of the friendly instructor aura he projected. He wondered if the Professor wasn't planning on using him in some way to bring house Slytherin glory - but if so, why did he not monitor what he was reading?

Another possibility that occurred to him was that this was some kind of experiment... Malachite _was_ watching him, secretly, determining what a bright boy with a free pass would choose to study on his own time. Sev didn't care for that idea much at all; he was the observer, not the observed.

He resolved to watch Professor Malachite as carefully as he watched Lucius Malfoy.

But, like it or not, observation was a two way street. Malfoy might be bigoted, but he was sharp as a knife, and it didn't take him long to notice that the books Severus studied were never the ones on the set list.

He was most interested in Sev's Dark Arts books. A lot of the technicalities went over his head when he tried to flick through them himself, but he was a quick study when Sev explained it for him.

Sev weighed up the wisdom of giving Lucius Malfoy access to high-level Dark curses, and decided to keep the majority of his knowledge to himself. However, he stockpiled showy, harmless but humiliating curses for whenever his roommates got too curious. The gang of Slytherins became extremely proficient at tossing off wicked little enchantments at their enemies.

Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students tended to flee before them, but the Gryffindors were made of sterner stuff. Potter and Black masterminded the resistance, learning curses of their own until it was quite common for minor disturbances in lessons to explode into magical war zones.

Potions lessons were the worst, under Professor Fennel's lax eye, but Slytherins and Gryffindors also learned flying together - and the opportunities for magical sabotage in mid-flight were so much greater.

James Potter flew with a flair that had the older students muttering excitedly about Quidditch. Snape himself was extremely proficient, but few realised it since he never showed off. With Black, Potter, Snape and Malfoy in the air together, the students were ducking and dodging curses every time the teacher turned her back.

Snape seldom participated in the magical duels if he could help it, but the knowledge that most of the nastier curses were his discoveries had somehow leaked out. As the gulf between the houses widened, his seeming alliance with Malfoy grew ever more cemented.

Most of the Slytherins were poor company, but since Sev preferred solitude it hardly mattered. Malfoy was really the only one with much of a mind to speak of, but his conversation was flooded with vitriolic attacks on mudbloods and Muggle-lovers, which Sev found deadly boring. It wasn't so much the prejudice that frustrated him as the complete lack of imagination.

It was always "mudbloods this" and "mudbloods that". If any of them bested Malfoy in a test - as Lily frequently did - Sev had to endure hours of ranting about how they'd cheated, how Dumbledore weighted the tests so they scored better, how the teachers were all Muggle-lovers...

Snape's reasons for looking forward to Christmas, then, were not quite the same as everybody else's. The vast majority of the students would be going home to be with their families. Snape, owing to his orphan status, was the only first year Slytherin to remain. He'd politely declined an invitation to winter with the Malfoys - he couldn't imagine Lucius' parents having anything more interesting to say than their son. All that mindless bigotry had to have come from somewhere.

Not only would he be free of his fellow Slytherins, but his self-declared enemies would also be away for Christmas. Both Potter and Sirius had other plans, and the holiday season would be blissfully quiet. Snape intended to spend most of it shut up in the library.

That was the plan, anyway. However, he couldn't completely avoid the festivities, and with so few students remaining he could hardly skip out on Christmas dinner.

He was one of only three first years to remain. There was also a Hufflepuff girl who had older sisters who were also staying... and then there was Lily.

Lily and Lupin were, of the Gryffindors, the least antagonistic towards Snape. Both of them, he thought, had a touch of his personality in them, and understood him better than their fiery companions. They were, however, firm friends of James and Sirius, and lines of battle had to be drawn.

At Christmas, the lines were blurred. With so few students, they shared a table with the teachers and house divisions were forgotten. The Hufflepuff girl sat with her sisters, and for lack of a more familiar face, Lily sat with Snape.

Aside from polite chit-chat with the staff, they ate in silence. It was not necessarily awkward, though; silence was Sev's natural state.

It wasn't Lily's. Finally, as if coming to a decision, she seized one of the magical crackers and held it out to him. He regarded it with just the slightest hint of a smirk.

"What's that supposed to be?" he said, rolling his eyes.

Lily rolled hers right back, and prodded him with the end of the cracker. "Think of it as peace offering." He continued to regard her in faint amusement. "Oh, for God's sake, just pull the damn thing, will you?"

He took the end of the cracker and, as apathetically as possible, held onto it while she pulled. There was an explosion of sparks, and a hat with an enormous orange feather fell out. He blinked at it for a minute, then pushed it over towards her. "Yours, I suspect."

"Oh, you're no fun," she retorted. Before he could do anything, she snatched off his wizard's hat and dropped the offending thing on his head.

Snape reached up and removed it cautiously. "I don't think it's really my colour," he said dryly.

"Why not? It's better than green." Green was the colour of house Slytherin, and Snape had to admit the emerald green Quidditch robes his house team wore were really not his colour. But then, he'd never looked very good in anything other than black.

"Aren't you fraternising with the enemy?" he reminded her mildly.

Lily punched her palm in frustration. "Enemy? What enemy? Since when was this a war?"

"Slytherin and Gryffindor have always been at war. Fact of life," he reminded her. He'd read about the rivalry in all the histories; it stretched all the way back to the original Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor, two clashing personalities if ever there were.

"I've been watching you," Lily pronounced suddenly. "You're no Slytherin."

"No?" Sev was caught out by her sudden change of tone, but his face didn't show it. "Then you can't have been watching very closely."

"Oh, I know you're a Slytherin, but you're not really a _Slytherin_."

"Ah, well, that cleared it right up."

The corners of her mouth quirked, and to his surprise, his own threatened to do the same. It was surprisingly refreshing to talk to somebody whose sense of humour extended beyond sniggering when someone tripped over.

"I see you," Lily insisted. "You never join in. You're not the same as them. Why do you hang out with them?" she demanded.

Snape shrugged. "Why hang out with anybody? Because they're there."

"You don't have to," she pointed out.

"I don't care," he replied with another shrug.

* * *

On Boxing Day, he was sitting in the library, carrying out his original plan of reading the holiday away. Suddenly, something thwacked him across the back of the head. He looked up from his books to see it was Lily.

"You," she said without preamble, "are gonna do me a big favour."

"I am?" he asked dryly.

"You are."

"I just decided this of my own free will?"

"You did. Very generous of you, too."

"That doesn't sound like the me I know."

"You were possessed by the Christmas spirit."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I was clearly possessed by something."

She grinned infectiously. "Anyway, the point is, you're gonna do me this really big favour. You... are gonna help me out with my Potions tution."

"Now, why would I want to do that?" She pulled a face at him. "Christmas spirit notwithstanding," he added.

"Because you're the best," she said with a shrug.

He gave her a cool look. "You think flattery works on me?"

"I think honesty will," she said, her flashing green eyes daring him to argue.

Before he could start to do so, she grinned again and started to walk away. "Anyway, thanks a lot. Tomorrow, ten o'clock in lab four. I'll try not to be late."

"Thoughful of you," he called wryly after her.

"I'm cool like that," she agreed.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite himself, Snape ended up turning up for Lily's self-declared Potions lesson. It worried him a little that he did, because it wasn't a logical choice... but he was curious. And when you were as sharp as Severus Snape, there weren't many things to be curious about. Most people he could read like a crystal ball, so the fact that he couldn't do that with Lily intrigued him.

Lily was apparently serious about wanting to learn. She had brought along a pile of books, and even procured permission to use the lab equipment; Sev could only assume she'd gone straight to Dumbledore to ask, since she wouldn't have stood a chance in hell with Fennel.

"All I need," she explained, "is someone to _help_ me. I'm not stupid. You know I'm not stupid." Perhaps wisely, she left no room for Sev to insert a snide comment there. "I could master this, if Fennel could get down off his damn high horse and go over things with me."

"What makes you think I'll be any better?" Snape asked, eyebrows raised.

"Because you're not as bloody-minded as he is. If it's not working, you'll find a better way. And I think you can teach me."

And, almost to his surprise, Sev found she was right. He had never imagined himself as a teacher, would have thought it ridiculous - how could he teach when he found it impossible to comprehend someone might find it difficult to learn?

Instead, he discovered that his uncanny sense for people extended to knowing how to explain things to them. Lily was very bright, but she seemed to have some kind of block about physically preparing a potion. Sev had to use all of his ingenuity to find a way around that block, find new ways of breaking things down and explaining them.

For the first time, he was actually doing something challenging. If learning was easy, helping others to learn was much harder. And, to his shock, he actually enjoyed it. Lily's hard won achievements gave him a better kick than any of his own easy victories.

And, as they ducked for cover under a table from an exploding batch of Swelling Solution, he found a strange and almost terrifyingly novel thought echoing through his mind.

_A teacher. I want to be a teacher._

* * *

Having a mission in life was new to him. Slytherin might be the home of the ambitious, but Snape had never had any desires beyond learning, and continuing to learn. But now he had discovered an even greater hunger - the need to teach.

Of course, hanging out in house Slytherin didn't give him a great deal of opportunity to do so. Trying to hammer anything into the head of Colin Crabbe was a lost cause, and all slimeballs like Malfoy and Avery wanted to learn were ever-more nasty curses.

Perhaps that was why, when an extremely frustrated Lily ambushed him in a corridor and demanded assistance, he forgot all common sense and agreed to give her another tutoring session.

They met in secret late one evening, something which Sev found in a twisted way hilarious. Here they were, two young students, sneaking out of their dorms late at night, avoiding their teachers, dodging the caretaker... in order to study.

"You realise if anyone notices we've both snuck out, they'll think we're having a secret affair?" Lily remarked to him as they met up in a corridor. Snape snorted. "That's funny?"

"It really is," he nodded.

"Shut up, greaseball."

"Won't your boyfriend get jealous?"

Lily flushed. "James is _not_ my boyfriend!"

"Oh, then how did you know who I was talking about?" She didn't have an answer for that, so she settled for poking him in the ribs with her wand.

"Shut up, you." She sighed heavily. "You know, I wish you guys would talk. I think James would really like you, if he got to know you."

"And Sirius Black?" he said ironically. They exchanged a look. No, not even a dedicated peacemaker like Lily would try to claim Sirius Black could ever accept a Slytherin into his heart.

"It'll never happen, Lily. They're Gryffindors, I'm a Slytherin. We can't be friends. You'd have to be insane to think it."

"I think you're _my_ friend."

He was sort of surprised to find he agreed. "Nobody ever tried to call _you_ sane."

"Well, good. Anyone tries to suggest it, I'll come after them with my leg-lock curse."

"Or one of your infamous exploding potions."

* * *

So that was how the secret tutoring sessions started. It was not a regular thing; just every month or so, when Fennel's unreasonable demands grew too much, Lily would catch up with him in the library or pass him a note and they would arrange to meet. The rest of the time they barely talked, although Lily would sometimes nod or smile at him in passing. If any Gryffindors noticed, they just assumed it was her naturally sunny nature, being friendly even to the scummy Slytherins.

Snape, of course, remained impassive.

Since neither of them wanted the Gryffindors _or_ the Slytherins to find out, and since Fennel was such an awkward old grouchbag, they got into the habit of breaking into the potions labs to borrow equipment. Sev had a few nifty tricks with locks, and they never used anything that would be missed or left anything out of place. If Fennel suspected something was up, he never let on. Truth be told, he seemed entirely too bored with the whole idea of teaching to care.

In fact, Sev wondered what he was even doing still at Hogwarts. He clearly hated being there, and time as a teacher at a school of magic was a springboard to practically any job you could want. So, if Fennel chose to stay instead, there had to be a reason.

He and Lily finally got a hint as to what that was on one of their late-night Potions sessions.

It had started out business as usual. This was the fourth or fifth time they'd met up, and they were getting to be old pros. Sneak out of the dorms, meet by the statue of the one-eyed witch, keep a wary eye out for old Pringle, the caretaker. Creep down to the labs, wait for Sev to cast his unlocking spell, and duck inside. The labs were down in the dungeons, and there was never any chance of somebody being down there late at night.

Except that this time, there was.

Lily froze in midstep, and suddenly clutched hold of his arm. "Sev! Fennel's still in his office!" she hissed, in shock.

Any normal boy would have flown into a well-justified panic at this point.

Sev had never been astonishingly normal. He calmly nodded to Lily, peeked around the corner of the nearest classroom, and beckoned for her to follow him inside. Lily made to shut the door, but he quickly gripped her arm before she could touch it. He sat down with his back against the wall beside the door, and gestured for her to do the same. This way, they wouldn't be seen from outside, and Fennel wouldn't notice that a door had been moved.

He explained as much to Lily by calmly withdrawing a scroll from his pocket and writing it out for her. Lily shook her head in wonderment at him, but made a pantomime shrug and sat down beside him. Why the hell not?

Sev was growing to like Lily. She was fiery, not icy cool like him, but in some ways they were very alike. Lily might get passionately riled up about things, but she knew when to be pragmatic.

The other advantage of sitting there with the door open, of course, were that they were both able hear Fennel talking. For that was what he was doing, down here in his office in the dungeons in the middle of the night.

Who he was talking to, Sev couldn't tell. Either they were further away, had a very quiet voice, or were using some form of magic to communicate. Since this wasn't any reasonable place or time for a casual conversation, he was leaning towards the latter.

Fennel, in contrast, was loud and distinctly snappish. "Yes, I _know_. I can hardly be expected to- Well, not with Dumbledore here!"

Beside him, Lily's bright green eyes grew wide. Sev, with his naturally devious mind, was far less easily shocked.

"I understand. Yes. Golden opportunity. Yes. I realise that. No, of course I haven't. You have to understand the Fletcher boy is very- He provided the chance himself. He's very keen, you know. Asked if he could help out tutoring the first years next week. And how could I refuse?" Fennel gave an unpleasant, sneering little laugh. It was not so much amusement as a scathing recognition of someone else's stupidity. It reminded Sev of Lucius Malfoy.

If Fennel said anything else to his mysterious communicant, it was too soft for Snape to pick up - and he had excellent hearing. A few moments later, and the office door slammed shut. They heard Fennel's footsteps echo along the corridor, and his shadow swept past their own doorway. He didn't look inside.

Lily turned troubled eyes to Snape. "Did he mean Audley Fletcher?"

"I think so," he said, and his voice was far more certain than the words. Audley Fletcher was a popular, talented seventh year, the son of a famous Auror. If Fennel was planning something that he didn't want to do around Dumbledore, then it was almost certainly something to do with the Dark Arts. And if that was true, the Aurors were logical enemies.

He explained as much to Lily, and she looked worried. "But why Audley? He's just a kid. I mean- well, you know." She remembered that 'just a kid' in this case meant six years older than either of them. "_He's_ not an Auror."

Sev gave a thin-lipped smile that had nothing to do with being amused. "Ah, Lily. Is your little Muggle world so uncomplicated?"

She scowled, half-seriously. "You know, you can be pretty damn offensive when you want to."

"It's a talent," he agreed flatly. Lily sighed.

"I'm not an _idiot_. I know that just because Audley's not involved doesn't mean somebody wouldn't..." She sighed again. "It's just... rotten, okay." She nibbled at her lower lip worriedly. "What'd'you think Fennel's gonna do, Sev? Are they gonna kidnap him, hold him to ransom?"

"Not a chance. They're out to kill him."

Lily jumped in shock. "What? How could you possibly know that?"

Sev met her startled gaze with his usual cool mask. "Logic. You heard the same conversation I did; it's pretty clear Fennel's not working alone, and he's not in charge."

"And this leads to murder how?"

"Anyone who can command a powerful wizard like Fennel has more than one servant, and more than enough influence to get them where he needs them. If this is a kidnapping attempt... why farm it out to a Potions expert?"

Lily gasped. "They're gonna poison him!"

"No," said Sev.

"What?" Yet again, she couldn't follow his line of thought.

"Oh, it'll _be_ poison that kills him," he said darkly. "But nobody will know it. They're clever. They don't plan to do this any way that can be traced back to them - that's why it can't happen in front of Professor Dumbledore. They know about him; they know how easily he sees through things."

"But they don't know about you," Lily added. She regarded him from under lowered brows for a long moment. "The way you think... it's pretty damn creepy, I've gotta tell you. Nobody should have to think like that."

"Ah, but they always will," Sev said coolly. "And as long as they do, so will I."

"And, thinking like you, what do we do now?"

"What I always do," Snape reminded her. "Watch. And wait. And see what's what."

* * *

The next day was a Sunday, which left them time for subterfuge before Audley Fletcher's life was put in danger. A few 'chance' words with Professor Fractalis in a corridor revealed that Dumbledore was coming back from his conference on Wednesday. A 'casual' remark to Professor Parilia, head of house Hufflepuff, revealed that the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had Potions Wednesday and Friday. Then he 'bumped into' Lily in the library.

That was, in actuality, the hardest part. He kept his nose firmly in his book whilst Lily surreptitiously tried to persuade James and Sirius to leave her alone. They finally quit when she threatened to have Sirius read through her notes on the Goblin Wars for her.

Lily waited a while more before casually sauntering over to the shelf by his table. "So, done your research yet?" she asked as she pretended to browse.

"Wednesday's the danger zone," he said softly. "Dumbledore'll be back, but not 'til late, and Fennel might chance his hand if he's desperate. We're helpless if he's in with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. We need to make sure Fletcher only comes to our class on the Tuesday."

"Oh, and how in the hell are we supposed to do that?" Lily demanded irritably.

"Simple. Fletcher's in an exam year, and he's studying hard. They won't let him out of enough lessons to come to _all_ the first year labs. So we just have to make him choose to come to ours."

"I do believe my question still applies."

"Who are the most giggly girls in Gryffindor?" he asked her.

She frowned in puzzlement, but answered promptly "Jade Creevy and Helen Beck."

"Talk to them. Tell them Audley Fletcher's gonna be sitting in on some of the classes, but he can only come to a few and it might not be ours. Send them to go giggle at him."

Lily quirked an eyebrow. "You think Fletcher's gonna be moved by a few lovestruck eleven-year-olds?"

"Yes," said Snape simply. As always, he knew people. Audley Fletcher was a classic golden boy, handsome Quidditch captain with high marks - the kind of student James Potter would be in a few years time. But unlike the mostly amiable Potter, Audley Fletcher had a deep-rooted vain streak - and hero-worshipping pre-teens were exactly what _would_ prompt him to come along to their Potions lessons.

Lily shrugged, but deferred to Sev's judgement. As she got up to leave the library, she turned back and said "Hey. D'you want to know the reason you're still alive right now?"

"I'm sure you're about to tell me," he said, not looking up from his history assignment.

"Because you didn't ask _me_ to be one of those giggling girls for you."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said mildly.

"Well, good."

"After all, I wouldn't want you to upset your boyfriend."

It was just as well he'd mastered the charm to stop fast-flying objects.

* * *

Sev was not at all surprised to see Audley Fletcher beaming goofily at them from next to Professor Fennel when they filed into class. The contrast between the two was striking; whilst both men would be considered attractive in classical terms, Fennel's face was distorted into a perpetual scowl, and Fletcher couldn't stop grinning. The sheer difference that made in the eyes of the teenage girls was quite amazing.

Snape, personally, found Fletcher's vapid grin very irritating. Fennel might be unpleasant - and, apparently, embroiled in a murder plot - but at least he was intelligent. Fletcher might be pulling the top grades, but when it came to spontaneous wit he was sorely lacking.

For a change, the Slytherin and Gryffindor boys were near-united by mutual dislike. The girls were all blushing and giggling excitedly, and even icy Narcissa Salenica had an unusual touch of colour to her cheeks. Malfoy, who'd been practically marking his territory ever since he'd met her, was looking deeply annoyed.

Fletcher, as Snape had expected, was completely oblivious to the dozen or so laser glares headed his way. He bumbled his way cheerfully from cauldron to cauldron, excited girls flocking around him.

The only one to remain coolly unimpressed was Lily. James and Sirius were looking smug, as if they personally were somehow to thank for her attitude.

Sev had no time for such petty interplays, however, focusing his attention solely on Fennel. The teacher looked annoyed at all the attention Fletcher was getting, but you'd have to know he was up to something to guess it was anything more than his usual irritated attitude.

Whilst the other girls bugged the handsome seventh-year, Lily was playing _her_ part to perfection - bugging Fennel. Every time he looked about ready to move towards his assistant, Lily was there, asking questions - just like she always did in Potions, only more insistently. Most of the time Fennel brushed her off quickly - but even so, it was enough of a distraction to lose him whatever tiny opportunity he'd spotted.

It couldn't last forever, however. Sev had the eyes of a hawk, and he didn't need to devote a fraction of a percent of his attention to the laughably simple potion work. He never took his gaze off Professor Fennel... and he saw when the teacher oh-so-casually let the tiniest drop of some purple solution fall into Sirius Black's cauldron.

_Well-chosen,_ observed the cool, detached part of Snape's brain that always noted such things. A Gryffindor, for the Slytherins had a bad enough reputation to be suspected of doing something to Fletcher deliberately. Sirius Black, for he had a history of messing around with magic and trying things he shouldn't. No one would believe it had been anything but a foolish accident.

Sev's brain had already run through the possible purple liquids Fennel could have chosen to add to this particular mix, and come to a conclusion. Any minute now, Sirius' cauldron would hit exactly the right temperature... and its contents would violently explode.

A moment later: "Professor! My potion's gone _green_."

Fennel's eye-rolling sneer looked exactly the same as it always did. "Why am I not surprised, Black? Fletcher! Deal with it."

Audley reluctantly broke away from the trio of girls he was wowing with his Quidditch stories, and came over to Sirius' side. He leaned over the potion to study it more closely. "Now, what do we have here?"

_Idiot._ Anybody who did that over a potion that was _already_ doing something unexpected deserved whatever they got. However, he doubted Lily would see it that way.

No doubt if it was Lily who had twigged what was about happen, her answer would be to cry out for them all to get back, the potion was about to explode - because Lily was fundamentally honest. Sev, on the other hand, was fundamentally devious.

He moved in closer to Sirius Black, and fixed his best sneer in place. "What's the matter, Black? Can't make a simple Shrinking Potion? Or are you just sucking up to get your place on the Quidditch team?"

Sirius could always be relied upon to react explosively. His hand flew straight to his wand.

"_Expelliarmus!_" snapped Sev. He judged it perfectly, wrenching the wand from Sirius' grip with enough force that he staggered backwards - straight into his own cauldron.

The brilliant green mixture went everywhere, flooding harmlessly across the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

Sev and Lily were probably the only ones who knew the true reason behind Fennel's towering fury. Even Audley Fletcher flinched away from him when he started to rant and rave in earnest.

Sev and Sirius ended up in detention, naturally. So did James and Peter, who'd had the misfortune of standing nearby when Fennel went ballistic.

Sirius had obviously explained to his best friend how Snape had been the cause of it all, and the two of them spent their detention period sending evil glares in his direction. Peter wasn't quite brave enough to do that, but he sat with them and sort of pretended to be joining in.

Sev had come no closer to guessing why the Sorting Hat had put Pettigrew in Gryffindor. In Remus Lupin, the Gryffindor qualities had been slow to show up because of his quiet voice and polite manner. In Pettigrew, they were simply nonexistent.

James had taken to him, in the manner boys like James Potter took to people they felt sorry for. Peter was fumblingly, pathetically eager to be a part of the gang, with a level of fawning hero-worship Snape found quite sickening.

The sickened feeling was decidedly mutual. Sirius Black was no friend to the Slytherins at the best of times. This, apparently, had been the final straw; now it was personal.

"We'll get you back for this, Snape," he muttered darkly as they finally escaped from the Potions dungeon.

"Oh, of _course_ you will," he sniped back, with his most mocking sneer. He had no use for the friendship of Sirius Black, and his hatred served a purpose. The more the Gryffindors were convinced he was their enemy, the less he actually had to _do_ to make Malfoy believe that.

He swung by the library on a hunch, to see if Lily had waited for him. She had.

"We have to go to Dumbledore," she said instantly, abandoning their usual pretence of casually discussing homework assignments.

"With what?" Sev refuted. "'While we were sneaking about in the middle of the night, we heard something that sounded like Professor Fennel _might_ be planning to do something to Audley Fletcher, and we think he deliberately sabotaged a potion in an attempt to injure him'?"

"You don't _think_ all that stuff, you _know_," Lily argued.

"Such confidence you have in me," he noted dryly.

"Such confidence you have in yourself," she countered.

"And it's well-founded."

"If you're that sure, Dumbledore could-"

"Dumbledore could do exactly nothing, without proof."

"Yes, but at least he'd _know_."

"The more people that know, the more chance Fennel will notice he's being watched. Dumbledore's more than sharp, but he trusts too easily. We have to be spies, and that's not something you share. The only safe spy is the one who works alone."

Lily was shaking her head in something like disbelief. "You're so... how do you live, being so cynical all the time? Not trusting anybody."

He shrugged. "It's how I've always been."

"It's awful," she said, hugging herself as if the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped.

"It saved Audley Fletcher today," he reminded her. "It'll probably save a whole lot more people tomorrow."

"Yeah," she said softly, "but who's gonna save you?"

* * *

In the weeks that followed, Professor Fennel and Audley Fletcher acquired two extremely discreet shadows. Most of the time, they were safe enough. Dumbledore was, as usual, seeming close to omnipresent. Fennel was growing steadily more bad-tempered; even the other staff fled from his scowls. Sev wondered if his unseen master was growing impatient.

Lily had convinced the not-exactly-poor Sirius to take out a subscription to the _Daily Prophet_, claiming that, being from a Muggle family, she wanted to learn about the wizarding world outside Hogwarts. She did, too, but most of her attention was reserved for the activities of the Aurors.

Auror Fletcher was the current darling of the media, having bust up an entire coven of Dark wizards in Bulgaria. There were troubled stirrings about some new power rising in the world of magic, and in these times the heroics of men like Fletcher were very well received. Sev had read enough to know that the man doted on his only son, and should anything happen to him it would near destroy him. And that destruction would be an incredible blow to public belief in their safety.

So, much as the seventh-year failed to impress him, he kept a look out for the safety of Audley Fletcher. He quickly saw Fennel's problem; it was almost impossible to find Fletcher alone. He was always surrounded by a crowd of adoring hangers-on, a group into which Fennel could hardly insert himself without being noticed.

So, thinking as he did so how much the idea would horrify Lily, he sat down and started to think like a murderer. It came perhaps entirely too easily.

Another opportunity like the potions tuition could not be relied upon. Yet there was barely a single place Fletcher set foot without being followed... which left somewhere he wasn't setting foot. The air. Quidditch.

Yes. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. _If_ I _were planning to hide a murder..._

The question was, was Fennel as smart as he was when it came to planning one?

He shared his theory with Lily.

"At a Quidditch match? In front of all those people?" She worried at her lower lip. "Surely that's too exposed?"

"Where better?" Sev countered. "Hundreds of witnesses to say it was an accident. All it takes is a little creative hexing on his broom..."

"Yeah," said Lily slowly. "Okay. I can buy that. But even if he falls a long way, who's to say he'll be killed, or even badly injured? He could get lucky."

"Doesn't matter if he does. Somebody's fallen a long way, the staff are on hand... who's the logical one to rush to his side?"

"The Potions master," Lily agreed sickly. "God." She shook her head. "You really think that's how he'll do it?"

"It's how I would. -If I was ever planning the perfect murder," he added, perhaps a shade too late. Lily was looking at him oddly.

"I worry about you, you know that?"

"I'm touched," he said dryly, getting to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

"Malachite's office," he explained. "I need to find us a completely untraceable, unnoticeable poison, and somehow I don't think we'll find it in the student library."

As luck - good or ill - would have it, Professor Malachite himself caught the two of them in the act. "Ah, Severus." His tone cooled off noticeably. "And Lily." Obviously he was not exactly thrilled at Sev having extended the invitation to another student. Sev wondered if it was the fact that she was a Gryffindor that irked his housemaster.

"Felt the need for some company, Severus?" he asked dryly.

"It's always good to have someone to bounce your ideas off," he said neutrally.

Lily quickly excused herself, sensing that he'd overstepped his bounds here. "I'm sorry, sir, did you not want anyone else using your books?" he asked after she'd scurried away.

"Not at all, not at all," Malachite quickly backtracked. "Ah... but perhaps Malfoy might be better suited..."

"Oh, I share with him too, sir," he said, trying to strike the right balance between innocent and sounding like he was acting. "I like to get multiple perspectives."

"Commendable," said Professor Malachite, in a tone that suggested it was anything but. Yes, a touch of inter-house rivalry there for sure.

He glanced at the weighty tome in Sev's hand. "_Moste Potent Paralytics_; a little light reading before bed, Severus?"

"It's as well to be versed on poisons, sir," he pointed out. "Else how would anybody ever discover the antidotes?"

"Quite, quite. Planning on making a name for yourself as a research wizard, hmm?"

"Maybe," he said, neutrally. For some reason, he didn't like the idea of sharing his newfound ambition to teach with Carnus Malachite. The Slytherin head of house might find it a little... unambitious.

He retired to the dorms and read pages and pages about the deadly effects of a few hundred poisons. Lucius and the others read over his shoulder, and tossed about the more disgusting descriptions with glee.

"Wow, these are _so_ cool," grinned Avery, as they all tried to picture exactly what exploding lungs might look like. Sev, however, was looking for something altogether less flashy.

He finally found it, referenced in a brief footnote at the bottom of page 924. Called 'Callahan's Brew', it was a poison that had been used by unscrupulous wizards in the Dark Ages. Back then, when the rules about interacting with Muggles had been far less strict, it had been a favoured cushy job to act as 'court wizard' to some minor king or other. However, kings could be quite unreasonable at times, and the odd ambitious wizard would need a way to bump off their 'master' without provoking the slightest suspicion of magical involvement.

Enter the long-ago Callahan. He had perfected a poison that was the complete opposite of all the flashy brews Dark wizards delighted in. This one was subtle, quick, untraceable, and damn near invisible. The only drawback was the antidote was something any halfway competent wizarding student could brew up... but that would require them knowing in advance that the poison was going to be used.

Sev was a great deal more than halfway competent. And he strongly suspected that if Fennel read the same books he did, he too would have come upon Callahan's brew.

Lily was unconvinced. "Okay... out of all the millions and _billions_ of possible poisons in the world, you're betting Audley's life that he'll use this one?"

"Yes."

"And you're sure of this because...?"

He met her gaze coolly. "It's what I'd use."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Lily was the first to look away.

* * *

Audley Fletcher was Gryffindor Quidditch captain. That gave Lily ample excuse to be at his matches, especially since she had shown up at a number of the team's practises, even before they knew Audley's life might be in danger.

This, Sev suspected - however much she denied it - had more to do with James Potter's fanaticism for the game than any wild passion of her own. James and Sirius had attended every practise going, fielding escaped Quaffles and chattering loudly about how they would be the stars of the team when they were allowed to enter try-outs next year.

That made his own job only harder. Not only was he well known to be deeply disinterested in the sport, but he was a Slytherin to boot. It would stretch belief for him to show up to support his own team, and he'd stick out like a troll at a tea party at Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw.

It was actually Sirius Black's wild enthusiasm for the game that provided a solution. On the eve of the first game of the annual Quidditch cup, Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff, he had donned a scarlet scarf over his uniform, and a magical badge that said 'Fletcher for the cup!'

This get-up was fondly tolerated by Gryffindor head of house Professor Vitae, but when it came to Herbology, a little bit of well-placed sniping did the job. "Professor! Can you tell Sirius Black to take that stupid scarf off? He's frightening the plants."

The Slytherins snickered. Professor Parilia, a small, dumpy red-headed witch, was extremely good-natured and easy-going. She was also head of house Hufflepuff, and a big Quidditch fan.

"Come now, Sirius. Do you think that's really appropriate wear for the classroom?"

"It's a greenhouse," Sirius scowled, but he took the scarf off. He shot Snape an evil look as he folded it up and put it away.

Later that lesson, Snape put a subtle little enchantment on his badge, so it read 'Fletcher for the cut' instead of 'Fletcher for the cup'. The Slytherins got a good fifteen minutes' amusement out of that until Remus Lupin finally pointed it out to him.

Sirius threw down his baby Flutterby Bush, which quivered indignantly. "Oh, _very_ funny," he snarled at the Slytherins. "Oh, that's _so_ mature. What'll it be next? Writing 'Gryffindor stinks' on the toilet walls?"

"Oh, we don't need to do that," said Lucius Malfoy smarmily. "After all, everybody _knows_ you stink." It wasn't a particularly funny line, but his gang of cronies bust-up laughing. Sev pulled one of his trademark tight-lipped smiles, which seemed to infuriate Sirius twice as much as the outright laughter.

"You're just jealous," he accused, practically foaming at the mouth. "You can't take it that we've got the best team in the school, and you're going _down_."

"Yeah, we're going down. We're going down to the Trophy Room to collect the Quidditch cup!" grinned Avery.

"You? Yeah, right. The only way you're getting your hands on that cup is if you steal it. Which, hey, knowing you, you'll probably try."

"Yeah, it'll be _like_ stealing. After all, where's the sport in beating a team as crap as yours?"

At this point Sev stepped back in, sneering. "You're going to _lose_, Black," he whispered darkly. "You're going to lose, and we're gonna be there to see it. And every match, if you're not too busy looking at the floor in shame, you can look up and see us grinning at you. Because we are _way_ out of your league. We are way out of your league, and you are gonna get _thrashed_ tomorrow. Hufflepuff'll beat you, and Ravenclaw'll beat you, and when it comes to Slytherin... well, you might as well just tell your boys to stay back in the dressing room. The score'll be the same, but it'll be much less embarrassing for you."

And after that, of course, there was no way in hell _anybody_ from house Slytherin was going to miss a single Gryffindor match.

* * *

Snape found Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff breathtakingly dull. There was something to be said, he supposed, for mastering the difficult art of flying a broomstick, but zipping around throwing balls through hoops? What the hell for?

Fennel wasn't even there. Sev soon spotted the reason; Professor Dumbledore was right there in the front row, cheering as overexcitedly as any twelve-year-old. He was normally far too busy to attend anything but the finals, but he'd obviously decided to make an exception for the first match of the season.

Gryffindor team were, to the Slytherins' dismay, every bit as good as Sirius had painted them. They were absolutely massacring Hufflepuff, tossing the Quaffle through hoops as if the defenders weren't even there.

However, a surprise twist soon had Malfoy and co crowing with delight. Audley Fletcher, Seeker, spotting a few girls beaming up at him, wasted a few crucial moments to wave - at the exact same time his Hufflepuff counterpart caught a flash of the Golden Snitch.

Even so, it was very, _very_ close. Fletcher realised his mistake in a fraction of a second, and he flew like a maniac. Watching him twist through the air like a corkscrew, Sev realised Fennel had missed a diamond opportunity to knock the boy from his broom. Everybody but the deliberately unimpressed Slytherins had their hearts in their throats.

The Hufflepuff boy, though, reacted with desperation. His fingers closed around the Snitch when the Gryffindor captain's were literally half an inch away. Even that victory, though, was overshadowed by the crowd's awe as Fletcher effortlessly peeled away to avoid a collision.

Hufflepuff had got the Snitch, but it wasn't enough to win them the game. By sheer virtue of their outstanding Quaffle-work, Gryffindor still came out of the game seventy points ahead.

Sirius and James were shouting down the Slytherins triumphantly, but Malfoy snarled right back. "Oh, right, right! Wow, your team can get a ball through a hoop - a Muggle could do that! You just wait 'til you're facing a team that actually knows how to _defend_."

"Oh, you'd better know how to do that, 'cause it's all you're gonna be doing!" James snapped back.

"Your Seeker needs glasses, Potter!" Malfoy shouted back. "Why don't you lend him yours? Oh, wait, no. You don't wanna give _Audley Fletcher_ anything that reflects - he'll be stuck in front of it for weeks!" The Slytherins howled with laughter.

Malfoy, though, was in a very dark mood as they stormed away. "Bloody mudblood Gryffindors," he cursed. "Think they're so goddamn brilliant. They need taking down a peg or two."

"You wait 'til next week," Avery piped up eagerly. "Our team'll tromp 'em. They haven't got a prayer!"

"Oh, I'm not just talking about Quidditch," said Malfoy slowly. A wicked grin started to spread across his features. "Oh, that's not the half of it."

And, dark mood suddenly forgotten, he wandered off, humming to himself. Snape stood watching him go; impassive on the outside, on the inside... troubled.


	5. Chapter 5

The next match to be played was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin which, as always, promised to be the grudge match of the season. Slytherin had soundly beaten Ravenclaw two weeks before, but there had been a bit of a stink kicked up over the dirty tactics on display. And that was just standard play - this time, it was personal.

Sev felt a buzz of certainty that was almost like second sight. This was, traditionally, the match where students were most likely to hex each other, commit fouls, and generally resort to all sorts of deviousness. If ever there was a good window for an attack on Fletcher, this was it.

The antidote to the poison had to be brewed freshly the day it was used. Sev had been keeping the ingredients ready to go at a moments' notice, but on match day he actually made up a batch and concealed it in the inner pocket of his robes. "What's that?" asked Colin Crabbe curiously.

"Oh, just a little something I might use at the match today," he said with an evil smile. Malfoy or Avery would have twisted his arm mercilessly for details, but Colin didn't have the imagination. He just laughed and went back to gazing longingly at Malfoy's designer broomstick.

Technically, first years weren't supposed to have their own brooms - not until they'd had at least six months' worth of flying tuition, anyway - but it was more a guideline than a real rule. A number of the better-off students from wizarding families had brought brooms from home, and the teachers didn't bother to confiscate them.

Remembering who else happened to have a broom of his own, Sev had an idea. At lunch that day, he suggested to Malfoy that he arrange to show up for the match riding his own very flashy, very expensive broom. "That'll show those pathetic Gryffindors."

He wasn't sure exactly what it was supposed to show them, but Malfoy seemed to like the idea. He liked any idea that involved showing other people how what his family had was better than anybody else's.

Then, in their usual 'chance' meeting in the library, he leaked the news to Lily. "Make sure it gets around to James and Sirius," he instructed.

"Okay." She hesitated. "Um... why?"

"I want your boyfriend to be there with his broom. Fletcher's going to take a fall, and all the antidotes in the world won't save him if he breaks his neck. You keep an eye on him all through the match, and point it out to James the second he starts to fall. Trust me, he'll be in the air and after him before you can blink."

That was true enough; James Potter was nothing if not impetuous. Others might think his tendency to leap to the rescue heroic, but Snape was unimpressed. A truly smart person would see situations coming and prevent them before they even arrived.

"Okay. He's not my boyfriend, but we've had this argument before so let's just skip that. Why James?"

"He's exactly what we need. If he's the one heroically rescuing Fletcher, nobody's watching me."

"You think it's gonna be this match."

"Yes."

"Why- No, wait. Don't tell me. Because it's when you'd do it."

He shrugged and offered her a thin smile. "Exactly."

* * *

The plan had worked beautifully, as he knew it would. People were so easy to manipulate.

Malfoy's dramatic entrance was punctured when James and Sirius also turned up on their brooms, but he still got to call it a victory because their brooms were so much older and cheaper than his. James responded by going into a display of flashy acrobatics they all knew Malfoy couldn't possibly match. However, the Slytherins got the last laugh when Professor Vitae called him down.

"Now, James, how about we leave the showing off to the actual players, hmm?" she said, although her tone was affectionate. The Gryffindor head of house could never muster a great deal of sternness, and she was very fond of James. He and Sirius got away with murder under her lax eye, to the Slytherins' disgust.

Whilst everybody else was watching James and Malfoy, Sev studied the crowd. Dumbledore wasn't there, but the rest of the staff were... including Fennel. Nobody seemed to think it particularly odd that he'd turned up for this match and not the others; he had been a Slytherin in his own school days, and the rivalry between the two houses was by no means restricted to current students.

All the players were in place; the game was about to begin. But the game Sev was watching was not the same one everybody else was.

Whilst the crowd oohed and aahed, Sev watched Fennel. Across the other side of the pitch, Lily kept her eyes firmly fixed on Audley Fletcher. If James hadn't been so wrapped up in the match, he'd probably have been jealous.

Play was fast and furious, eliciting gasps of delight and dismay every few seconds. Brilliant goals were scored, daring strategies tried, incredible defences mounted. Sev didn't see any of it, only heard the commentator's words. Every iota of his attention was focused on the Potions teacher. Lily might be keeping her own watch, but he trusted nobody but himself to read the signs exactly right.

The commentator, Greg McDonald, suddenly sucked in a sharp breath. "The Snitch! He's seen the Snitch!"

Sev's were the only eyes that weren't turned to the sky - and the only ones that saw Saxius Fennel suddenly tense and reach for his wand. This was it. Sev got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" gaped Avery beside him.

"I need a drink."

"But- the Snitch!"

"He's a Gryffindor. He'll miss," said Snape coolly, and threaded his way past him down towards the bottom of the stands.

Only now did he first glance upwards, and catch a glimpse of Audley Fletcher wrestling with a suddenly errant broomstick. There were gasps as people started to realise something was wrong, but nobody moved.

Nobody except Lily, who Sev saw elbow James pointedly and say something that was lost in the noise. James looked startled for an instant, and then he suddenly grabbed his broom.

The gasps quadrupled as James launched himself into the air, zooming up towards the falling Fletcher. None of his confusedly circling teammates had thought to try something so crazy as to try and stop his fall.

James Potter, though, had just enough of a mix of recklessness and skill to try it. He whipped around and matched his broom to Fletcher's, barrelling down towards the ground at the same speed. It could only be seconds before impact.

Completely letting go with his hands, James steered the broom with his knees as he reached out to grab Audley's outstretched hand. There was a gasp of dismay as he missed... then he reached out again and connected.

Sev actually _heard_ the crunch as Audley's arm was wrenched out of its socket by his sudden dead weight. His broom fell away from him, and Potter's was suddenly taking the weight of both of them. James tried desperately to pull up, but all he could do was slow the descent. They both hit the ground with a thump, Audley crying out in pain.

Fennel might not have counted on James' intervention, but either he'd decided it didn't matter or he was too desperate to abandon his plan at this late stage. In the sudden mass rush towards the two fallen boys, he was first off the starting blocks. Snape, having already woven his way down to the front of the crowd, was right on his tail.

"Here, drink this." Fennel quickly pushed a vial of potion against Fletcher's mouth.

Even here, now, in this vitally important moment, the cool and collected part of Sev's brain was observing the brilliance of it. Everything seemed perfectly, one hundred percent natural; the Potions master diving to the rescue of the injured student.

And now, for the third actor in their little play; keen young first-year trying to impress his Potions master with his skill.

"Professor! I have the Numbweed potion here," he said, pulling out the little bottle of antidote. "Should I-?"

Fennel looked for a moment startled, but quickly recovered. "Um - yes, by all means." Numbweed was a general anaesthetic that would dull pain without interfering with any other kind of medication. For the record, that was what _was_ in the bottle - in addition to the antidote.

Numbweed - proper, non-altered Numbweed - would have no effect whatsoever on the poison. Fennel would know that - and he would also know that letting a student feed an untested potion to Fletcher gave him an absolutely _perfect_ scapegoat if the boy suddenly died.

_Always play to other people's best interests,_ thought Snape cynically, as he poured a dribble of the liquid into Audley's mouth.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Fletcher started to cough. The coughs racked his athletic frame with ever-increasing strength and frequency, and Sev caught the flare of triumph in Fennel's eyes. Then Audley twisted to one side, and threw up. Repeatedly.

All thoughts of subterfuge were forgotten, as realisation dawned across Fennel's face. Fletcher had brought up Sev's potion, the one that had gone before it, and just about anything else he'd ingested in the last eight hours. The poison was out of his system.

Fennel snapped around to stare at Snape. Sev stared right back, with his most unreadable expression in place. After a moment, the Potions master spun on his heel and stormed away.

* * *

Sev caught hell for his little 'stunt'. Professor Vitae was furious, convinced that he'd deliberately given Fletcher something to make him throw up.

"Is this a _time_ for jokes?" she raged. "Is this a time for silly little schoolboy rivalries? He could have been _very seriously injured_."

Audley had turned out to have nothing worse than a dislocated shoulder - and a very queasy feeling after the reaction of the two potions inside him. He was spending the night in the infirmary, under the watchful eye and clucking tongue of Madame Florence.

Fortunately, Professor Malachite turned up to rescue Snape. "Come now, Ellida. It's been a very stressful day for you, but you're being unfair. You mustn't take it out on the boy. The potion was a little too strong - it was an honest mistake. No harm done, hmm?"

Still muttering darkly, Professor Vitae allowed herself to be led away. But as he left, Malachite threw a calculating gaze over his shoulder at Sev. In return, he sent the same carefully blank look he'd given Fennel.

Malachite wasn't fooled. They both knew Sev didn't make 'honest mistakes'. _Especially_ not when it came to Potions.

His fellow Slytherins had reached the same conclusion - with an altogether different outlook. They threw an impromptu party for him in their dorm room, and Malfoy clapped him happily on the shoulder.

"Brilliant, Severus, brilliant!" He gave a wickedly triumphant smile. "And they couldn't prove a thing!" Snape suspected he thought Sev had not just used the potion but cursed Fletcher off his broom as well.

When the others had grown tired of celebrating, Malfoy spoke to Sev again. "That really was an inspired bit of trickery, Severus. I know some people who would love to hear about it." He gave a cold smile. "We're gonna need people like you, if we're ever gonna put wizardry in this country back where it belongs."

Sev just nodded, and wondered if Malfoy's mysterious 'people' could be traced back to Professor Fennel's unseen master.

The plan had gone off almost perfectly. James Potter had been applauded as a hero, and Sev's part in the whole affair had been grossly misunderstood... by all except one. The most important one. Fennel had to know his cover was blown. You couldn't turn up and cure the Callahan's Brew poison by accident.

The way he saw it, Fennel had two options. Disappear before he could be caught - or kill Fletcher and _then_ disappear before he could be caught. Given that his master didn't seem to be particularly tolerant, Sev's money was on the latter.

And that meant tonight.

Sev waited impatiently for the rest of his dorm to fall asleep. Colin started snoring abominably as soon as his head touched the pillow, but Malfoy took much longer to stop discussing Quidditch and curses with Avery. Neither of them, though, were quite as much a night-hawk as Severus Snape, and after a while he was the last one left awake.

The statue that took Slytherin passwords was the only one to mark his passage, and all it did was wink at him. It had seen him leave in the night before, for his secret lessons with Lily, and besides - house Slytherin was the traditional home of sneaking about.

However, he was not the only sneak in Hogwarts. He bumped into Lily in a side corridor, and only just managed to magically disarm her before she threw a leg-lock curse on him.

"Sorry," she hissed nervously.

"Going to the infirmary?" he asked her. She nodded.

"I should have guessed you'd be on your way there. I could've stayed in bed." He knew that she wouldn't have done so even if he'd specifically asked her to. "I figured Fennel might try to do something while Fletcher's still stuck in sick bay."

"You're finally starting to think like me," Sev told her. She grimaced.

"You say that like it's a _good_ thing."

The two of them crept through the corridors together. It was almost like one of their usual midnight expeditions, except for the tension in the air. Sev's ability to plan might be unsurpassed, but even he had to fit himself around other people sometime. What if Malfoy's inability to get to sleep had delayed him too much?

The infirmary was no difficulty to get into. Audley was the only patient, and he was in no particular danger - at least not from his injuries. Madame Florence had doubtless long since wandered off to bed.

Motioning for Lily to guard the door, Sev stepped in and moved towards the bed. Fletcher looked still. Very still. Was he...?

Suddenly, he let out a huge, shuddering snore, like one of Colin Crabbe's. By the door, Lily let out a nervous giggle. Snape called her over to him. "Quickly. Lie down on one of the beds, and pretend to be another patient."

She frowned. "What if Fennel knows Audley's the only one here?"

"Then you're caught. Which is why I'll be hiding elsewhere." He stepped back into an alcove, and mumbled a little charm he'd found in one of Professor Malachite's books. It wasn't invisibility, exactly - that was a much more complex spell - it just made him... shadowy. He could be seen, but only by someone who was specifically looking.

He stood in the corner, motionless, and steeled himself to wait as long as necessary. Lily seemed less comfortable, shifting nervously, and fiddling with her wand under the covers. After a while she stilled, and Sev wondered if she'd actually gone to sleep.

In the minutes that followed, Sev's eyes roamed over every inch of the darkened infirmary. They grew adjusted to the darkness, and he committed every detail of the view to memory.

Anybody else - less observant, less trusting of their own eyes - might have dismissed the tiny flicker in the moonlight spilling through the window as nothing. An optical illusion, a trick of the light.

Not so Sev. His muscles tensed, and he scanned the room even harder for another flicker of motion that would betray what he was sure he had seen - somebody moving through the room in an invisibility cloak.

Trusting his own senses, he was almost expecting it when Fennel abruptly appeared out of the air, the silvery cloak rippling into a pool at his feet. Lily was not, and he saw her bundled-up form flinch with surprise - but she didn't make a sound.

_Well done, Lily._

Fennel's face was twisted into an even more ugly expression than usual. He looked down upon the sleeping Fletcher with equal parts venom and triumph, and started to raise his wand...

Perhaps, in her nervousness, Lily couldn't think of a single spell to stop him. Perhaps she just feared her own magic wouldn't be enough, and neither would Sev's. Or perhaps a little bit of James Potter's influence was rubbing off.

Seemingly without stopping to think, Lily jumped off of the bed and tackled Fennel from behind. Either by design or sheer chance, the sheet she had been disguised under went over his head.

Sev had his wand at the ready, but there was no way to fire off a hex without it rebounding onto Lily. If he'd been James Potter, he'd have dived into the fray himself, but he wasn't that stupidly heroic.

In any halfway decent fairytale, the eleven-year-old girl with a sheet should have no problem trapping - and probably tying up - the ruthless evil wizard. Sev not being a great believer in fairytales, he wasn't phenomenally surprised when it didn't turn out that way.

Fennel threw off the sheet with a curse, and the valiantly struggling Lily with little more effort. He loomed over her with a sneer. "Ah, it's you. Strange. I would have expected it to be your stunt-riding boyfriend. Still, little matter."

Lily opened her mouth to make the traditional good-guy retort, but Fennel was having none of it. "_Stupefy!_" Lily slumped to the ground, stunned.

Fennel made the exact same expression he used in class when a student did something stupid, and turned back to the sleeping Audley Fletcher. Sev was just preparing to step out of the shadows and let loose a curse of his own, when a voice from the doorway startled them both.

"Hey! What the hell's going on?"


	6. Chapter 6

It was James Potter. He stood in the doorway still in his sleep-gear, eyes wide behind his glasses and hair even more ruffled than usual. "Hey! What did you do to her?"

Fennel rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Oh, good God, another one." He raised his wand to fire off a curse, but James was quicker on the offensive than Lily.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

The spell was not strong enough to overcome a master wizard like Fennel, but it was enough to make him briefly fumble with his wand. James, foolishly, chose to rush to Lily's side instead of try another spell.

"Lily! Are you okay?"

Sev could have told him not to waste his breath; the Stun spell would last a long time if it wasn't magically lifted. Realising she couldn't hear him, James twisted around, but Fennel was already pointing his wand triumphantly. "Care to try your luck, Mr. Potter?"

Unnoticed, Sev stepped out of the shadows behind the pair of them. His shadow-spell was falling away quickly, but he had a cure for that. Ducking over to Fennel's discarded invisibility cloak, he tugged it over his head.

Unbelievably, James was actually raising his wand for another spell. But even his lightning reflexes weren't enough this time. "_Stupefy!_" He slumped to the ground beside Lily.

Fennel shook his head, and moved over to the door to check no one had heard them. Audley Fletcher, amazingly, hadn't even stirred. Sev couldn't tell if he was charmed to keep him from waking, or just an incredibly heavy sleeper.

He'd hoped, when James had showed up, that this could have been fixed without him having to tip his hand. He should have known better than to rely on somebody else. Now he'd have to reveal himself - unless...

He looked across the room for a likely object. _Ah!_ Under the cloak, he pointed his wand arm and whispered "_Accio beaker!_" The empty glass beaker on a table by the wall leapt into the air and sped towards him.

Before it could complete its journey, he reversed the Summoning Charm with a Banishing Spell. Caught between two conflicting spells, the beaker came to its own conclusions - and fell to the ground in an explosion of glass.

Fennel jumped as if he'd been cursed, and whipped round. "Who's there?" he demanded furiously. "Peeves? If that's you-"

Had Sev not been busy, he would have stopped to consider the ridiculousness of Fennel shouting at the obnoxious poltergeist for interrupting his murder plot. However, unlike James Potter, he knew when to take advantage of a distraction.

Still invisible, he glided over to the unconscious Lily and touched the end of his wand against her shoulder. "_Enervate!_ he whispered, whilst Fennel was still staring round the room in furious anxiety.

Lily pushed painfully to her feet, and made as if to speak; Sev stepped directly behind her and covered her mouth. She struggled, but he whispered directly against her ear "It's me." She stopped trying to fight him, and allowed him to pull her down to the ground again where she wouldn't be seen.

"I'll wake James," he whispered. "Keep him quiet. Use the Stun charm on Fennel - both of you, together, and I'll do the same."

She nodded in mute understanding, and Sev dropped to his knees beside James. "_Enervate_," he muttered, and then he quickly ducked out of the way before he could be aware there was an invisible person lurking over him.

Lily, he was gratified to see, performed perfectly. She gagged James as Sev had done her, and communicated in sign language the plan. Then she did a three-two-one count, holding her hand up so that Sev could also see.

Fennel, finally satisfied and turning back towards the sleeping Audley, never knew what hit him.

"STUPEFY!"

And in that roared command, who was to say if there were two voices or three?

"Get Dumbledore," James urged Lily, going over to stare down at the unconscious Potions master. As she ran out of the door, Sev in his invisibility cloak brushed close by her ear.

"Don't tell anyone I was here," he asked her quietly.

* * *

Still wearing the cloak, Sev watched events unfold from the sidelines. Dumbledore and half the senior staff came charging up the corridor, and Fennel was carried away to the dungeons by Hagrid.

James and Lily were fussed over, hugged, and inspected for injuries by every single person in the room. Sev was extremely glad to be out of it.

It was only about twenty minutes later that anybody actually thought to wake Audley Fletcher. He sat up with a stretch and a yawn, and said blankly "Why is everybody in the infirmary?"

The two young heroes were taken into Dumbledore's office, where they sat sipping hot chocolate and were bombarded with questions. Their head of house, Professor Vitae, couldn't seem to stop giving them comforting hugs; Lily didn't seem to mind, but James was looking decidedly embarrassed. Professor Fractalis was stuttering incoherently, and only Dumbledore and Malachite seemed calm.

"Tell us again what happened, Lily," Dumbledore urged.

Lily had given no word to Sev that she would do as he asked, but she did anyway. She told the truth, but not all of it; carefully editing out Sev's involvement. "I just... at the Quidditch match, I was watching Professor Fennel. I thought, it seemed to me that he tried to poison Audley! I mean, he fell off his broom and everything, and we all know he's _never_ done that. It was just something in his expression... and then Audley sicked it up, and he seemed so furious..."

"So you were worried about Audley, and you went to check on him in the middle of the night?" said Dumbledore gently.

Lily nodded emphatically. "I hid under the covers, and Professor Fennel came in, and he had his wand out ready to use a curse. I didn't know what else to do, so I just jumped out and tried to stop him, and he Stunned me." She frowned prettily. "And I guess that's when James arrived."

"Ah yes, Mr. Potter. Pray tell us why _you_ were roaming the corridors late at night? On a similar mission of mercy?" said Malachite dryly. James and Sirius' mischievous exploits were already somewhat infamous.

"I was... I was..." For some reason, James glanced over at Dumbledore for reassurance. "I was going to check on somebody." Malachite opened his mouth to query him, but the headmaster waved him quiet.

"I know what this is about. Tell your story, James."

As James launched into a rambling explanation of how he'd heard a commotion in the infirmary and gone to investigate, Sev filed away the odd reaction thoughtfully. James Potter was up to something in the middle of the night that the headmaster knew about. Interesting...

"-and so I tried to use the Disarmament Charm, but it didn't really work, and he Stunned me, too. But I guess the Stun must have been wearing off of Lily, and then she woke me up and we both cursed Fennel at the same time."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, digesting that. "And there was nobody else involved?" he asked, with sudden sharpness.

"Nobody," said James confidently. Lily didn't answer, and Dumbledore gave one of his unreadable half-smiles. Snape would swear that, just for a second, his eyes flickered over to where Sev was hiding under the invisibility cloak.

Professor Vitae hustled the two Gryffindors back to their respective dorms, still fussing over them loudly. Malachite lingered a moment, sipping his mug of chocolate thoughtfully. "What was that with the Potter boy?" he asked, arching one fine brow.

Dumbledore smiled mysteriously. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Carnus."

"Ah, but I am concerned," said the Defence Against the Dark Arts master. "You're too lenient sometimes, Albus. Let the children have their fun, by all means, but don't let them run riot."

"I hardly call foiling a murder plot 'running riot', Carnus," Dumbledore pointed out lightly.

"Yes." Malachite looked thoughtful. "Poor, deluded old Fennel. What _do_ you suppose he thought he was doing?"

"I find, when it comes to matters of murder, that looking for logical answers seldom works," said the headmaster pensively.

"Yes." Malachite sighed. "Well, they'll get nothing out of him once the Dementors get hold of him."

"Dementors?" Dumbledore looked angry.

"The boy's father's an Auror, Albus," he pointed out. "He'll be furious - they'll drag Fennel off to Azkaban before you can blink, and what's left of him won't be much use to anybody."

"Fools," said the headmaster, in a dark tone Sev had never heard from him before. "The Ministry refuses to listen to the evidence that mounts before it. This is an evil time, Carnus. The darkness is ascending."

"Shadows, Albus," said Malachite reassuringly. "It's just shadows. It'll all come to nothing in the end."

"Perhaps," said Dumbledore, pushing around a few marshmallows on a plate. "Perhaps." But as Sev snuck out of the office on Malachite's heels, the headmaster's troubled expression stayed with him.

* * *

It was only a handful of weeks from the end of term, and the remaining potions lessons were cancelled - to everyone's delight.

Lily and James were lauded as heroes. Everyone crowded around them, demanding to know the exact details of everything that had happened that night. Most of the students were almost indecently gleeful that their hated Potions master had turned out to be a would-be-murderer.

For a while Audley Fletcher was happy basking in the glory of being the intended victim, but fairly soon he was telling an all-new version of the story where he heroically faced down a rabid Fennel, and James and Lily were relegated to supporting characters only.

Content to be very firmly _out_ of the limelight, Sev stuck with the Slytherins. None of them were half so thrilled as the rest of the school at how things had turned out. Malfoy was disgusted at the idea of James Potter playing the hero, and was heard to mutter in the secrecy of the dorm how it would have been better for all of them if Fennel had succeeded. After listening to Fletcher going on about his own brilliance, it was worryingly difficult to disagree.

Sev kept the invisibility cloak, hiding it away in a secret compartment even Malfoy didn't know he had. He had a feeling this thing with Fennel was only the tip of the iceberg, and being able to sneak around unseen could be _very_ useful in the near future...

He avoided Lily for as long as possible, but eventually she managed to throw off her crowd of admirers and gawkers to corner him in a corridor.

"You. Come with me." She dragged him off to a quiet corner of the dungeons. With the potions lessons all cancelled, nobody wanted to go down there. The dungeons were dark and dank at the best of times, and in summer most of the students found them unbearable. Sev, personally, rather liked them. He did most of his best thinking in the dark.

"Okay. It's time to tell me what you're playing at," Lily demanded.

"I don't know what you mean," he said lightly.

"You always know what I mean," she said, with a pointed look. And how could he argue? "I did what you asked!" she exploded. "I kept secret about your part in this. I had to lie to a lot of my friends! So the least you can do is tell me _why_."

"I would have thought that was obvious," he said quietly. His soft, cool tone was a marked counterpoint to her impassioned ranting. "For the same reason I kept quiet all along. I'm the observer, Lily. I have to remain on the sidelines, if I'm ever to see anything at all."

"There's a difference between 'on the sidelines' and 'on the other side'!" she shouted. "They all hate you, Sev! They all hate you because you're one of the 'evil Slytherins', and I want to tell them all how completely wrong they are about you and you won't let me!"

Sev remained impassive. "I can live with their enmity, Lily."

She scowled, looking just about ready to spit. "If you only _told_ them-"

"You can't tell them, Lily," he insisted firmly.

She shook her head at him. "This is crazy. You know the only reason they don't like you is because they think you never care about anybody. If they knew what you'd done, they'd all be your friends!"

"I don't need friends."

"Everybody needs friends, Severus," she shot back. "Even a cold fish like you."

Snape gave a humourless laugh. "Oh, wouldn't it be nice to be that childish and innocent? It's not about friends, Lily."

"Then what is it about?" she demanded.

"Enemies." He held her gaze, suddenly deadly serious. "There's something coming, Lily. The Ministry of Magic might not believe it, but Dumbledore knows it - and so do I. This is about more than just one potions teacher cracking up and hexing a student." He paused for a second. "The dark is coming, Lily. And if we don't have somebody right there where the dark is thickest watching for it, it's gonna be too late."

Lily's ire faded into something approaching resignation. "And you think that person's you?" she asked.

"I'm the only one it _can_ be, Lily," he told her. "I'm the only one that knows what to watch for... and the only one that has a chance at getting on the inside. So right now, the worst thing I can have is friends. I need enemies, because all they understand is enemies. I need them to believe that I'm as bitter and twisted up and jealous as they are. So as of right now, I'm turning my back on _friends_." He hesitated for a fraction of an instant. "And that includes you."

He turned, and walked back up the steps and out of the dungeon without looking back.

That was the last time Sev spoke to Lily that year.

** End**


End file.
